


brunch & breakdowns & bonding

by cantando_siempre



Series: in a moment of breathless delight [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baker Enjolras, Café Musain, Enjolras and Cosette Are Foster Siblings, M/M, all characters except enjolras grantaire and cosette are only mentioned, enjolras pretends to be fierce but is actually quite soft, grantaire’s hardly even in this one but listen i love cosette so much shh, sibling bondingTM, slight eposette, you don't even have to squint for it just read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantando_siempre/pseuds/cantando_siempre
Summary: It’s the morning after and Enjolras regrets nothing.~“Cosette.”She hums.“Cosette, I’m so gay,” he moans.“Fact.” she confirms, distracted by a message on her phone that makes her eyes smile.“Cosette.”Hearing the desperation in his voice, she looks up.“Cosette, what if he’s not?” he whispers.-or: grantaire is grantaire, enjolras is gay and sad, cosette is supportiveTM, and so much sibling bondingTM





	brunch & breakdowns & bonding

**Author's Note:**

> will i ever stop? never.
> 
> side note: one helpful commenter/reader suggested i make a series for this bakery au, so i have done that! the other works in this series are now easily accessible, so feel free to pop in!
> 
> warnings - minor swears (a**, sh**), breakdown/self-doubt/insecurity
> 
> comments, kudos, criticism, blah blah etc., please. sibling goalsTM. have fun!

It’s the morning after and Enjolras regrets nothing.

To clarify, it’s the morning after Enjolras and Grantaire stayed up into the wee hours of the morning when not even Jehan is up, the two of them getting wild by baking a ridiculous amount of cakes for an old lady.

To clarify further, it’s technically the _afternoon_ after, since it’s 2:00 PM, but Enjolras feels justified in calling it morning because he’s making pancakes.  He honestly doesn’t know how he and Cosette don’t have diabetes based on the amount of sugar they consume.

After Grantaire fell asleep on him in the Musain kitchen and Enjolras felt he had restrained himself by not kissing Grantaire the entire night, Enjolras proceeded to fall asleep like the weak gay he is.  Upon being awakened by Cosette calling him, Enjolras jerked up, dislodging Grantaire, and answered the phone.

_“Where are you?” she demands.  “Baptistine is chewing me out and I’m pretty sure she’s just yelled the entirety of Hamlet’s major soliloquy at me in modern-day French. She’s going even loopier than she already is and I’ve been forced to hide in some closet filled with antique feather dusters.  You were supposed to be here at 8!”_

_Looking over, Enjolras sees the microwave display blinking 8:46.  “Shit.”_

_“Get your ass over here!  Bring the cakes, and please don’t look like you did anything last night that would cause an elderly woman a heart attack,  regardless of how up-to-date she thinks she is.”_

_“Cosette!”_

_“Ass! Here!” she hangs up._

_Feeling his cheeks burn, Enjolras turns around to see Grantaire transferred to the flour-coated floor, his black jeans now majorly white and a trail of drool on his too-large hoodie._

_“Grantaire,” he hisses, shaking the man’s shoulder gently.  “Grantaire, I’ve got to go.”_

_“Huh?” Grantaire says blearily, reaching his hand out and feeling Enjolras’s face.  His fingers trace over Enjolras’s lips and Enjolras shivers.  “Sorry!” Grantaire exclaims, eyes shooting open as he drags himself up._

_“It’s fine,” Enjolras stutters._

_“Do you need to go?”_

_“Yeah, Baptistine needs her cakes.” Enjolras says regretfully, piling the cakes into some boxes.  “I’m so sorry you had to sleep here, you must’ve been uncomfortable.”_

_“Oh, no, I was fine.  Did I do anything weird?  I’ve scared people away when I’m sleep-deprived.”_

_Enjolras’s thoughts drift back to Grantaire’s curls brushing Enjolras’s neck and Enjolras’s hand clasped around Grantaire’s.  “No, you were fine.”_

_“Great.  Well, I had fun baking with you –”_

_“Me too!”_

_“Good,” Grantaire says, and Enjolras feels a leap of delight as Grantaire’s ears tint slightly red, since he can almost never spy a blush on Grantaire’s dark skin.  “I’ll let you go appease the Medusa.  See you soon?”_

_“Definitely,” Enjolras answers, moving forward and hugging Grantaire on impulse.  He smells like acrylic paint and double chocolate chip cookies and _something_.  Enjolras can’t identify the _something_ , but it feels like comfort and understanding and he knows he likes it. Enjolras feels Grantaire’s hands curl around his waist, squeezing lightly before releasing._

_“I’ll talk to you later,” Grantaire says as he walks to the door._

_“You’d better,” Enjolras calls after him.  His phone rings as he stares after Grantaire, and he jumps, grabs the mini cake boxes, and rushes out the door._

Enjolras had delivered the cakes to Madame Baptistine, endured her chiding, ducked around her clients, grabbed Cosette and dashed out the door. 

_“What are you doing today?” he asks as they stagger down the street like zombies._

_“I was up all night in the hospital with Ép and Zelma, so I’m gonna sack out.”_

_“Me too.”_

_“Agree to be totally unproductive for the rest of the day and not feel guilty?”_

_“Agreed.”_

*******

After tumbling onto his bed and passing out for several hours, Enjolras blunders across the apartment to make food.  On his way to the kitchen, he knocks on Cosette’s door.  Hearing a muffled grunt from within, he assumes she knows what he intends to do and proceeds to lethargically start a pancake batter while yawing.

While he’s mixing the batter, Cosette stumbles out of her room, phone in hand and thumbs flying far too fast for how much of a mess she looks.  She’s got eyeliner under her eyes and down her cheeks, her hair’s up in a bun that’s listing dangerously to one side and setting off her balance so her entire head lists to the right, and her mouth gapes open in a massive yawn every five seconds.  Regardless of her valiant efforts, she can’t seem to stop.

“So what happened with you and Grantaire yesterday?” she asks, looking up to smirk at him.  Setting down the mixing bowl, Enjolras mirrors her pose of leaning against the counter.

“Cosette.”

She hums.

“Cosette, I’m so _gay_ ,” he moans.

“Fact.” she confirms, distracted by a message on her phone that makes her eyes smile.

“ _Cosette_.”

Hearing the desperation in his voice, she looks up.

“Cosette, what if he’s not?” he whispers.

She gives him the best staredown he’s seen from her since they were kids and he told her girls weren’t pretty. “Not gay? Enjolras, why would you think -”

“I really like him. A lot. But I don’t want to - I _can’t_ \- do anything without knowing what he’s thinking. You say he’s flirting, but what if he’s just flirting to flirt and it doesn’t matter that it’s with me? I don’t want to make him uncomfortable and I don’t want to drive him away, because I just want to talk to him and know him. Why did he start drawing? What is he always drawing that he hides from me? How did he learn to dance? What does he do for a career if not dancing because _shit_ , Cosette, he’s so good it should be illegal,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“What’s happened to him to teach him not to be hopeful? Who did something to make him afraid of disappointment? I want to _know_ him, but I’ll never get a chance if I mess this up by asking him out. I don’t know what to _do_ ,” he rambles, scrubbing at a smear of pancake batter on his arm as tears trickle to his eyes.

Cosette stares at him, her lip trembling, and then reaches over to pull him into a hug. Rubbing his back, she lays her head on his shoulder. She smells like cinnamon and rain and lilies. “Where’s all this coming from?” she inquires. “You’re not usually...unsure like this.”

“I’m just scared I’ll ruin – whatever we’ve got.” he mumbles.

She pulls her head up and looks him straight in the eyes.  “Enjolras, to be brutally honest because that’s what you need right now, I don’t think there’s any way you could drive him away outside of you being a genuine ass, which you are not. He’s been enamored with you since you met. He texts me at least four times a day, daily, wondering if he can ask you on a proper date yet, and chickens out every time because _he’s_ worried he’ll mess it up. It’s so obvious even _Marius_ can see Grantaire likes you, and Marius thought Éponine was straight for the whole 15 years he’s known her until a month ago when _that_ _girl_ literally made out with her in the middle of a meeting.”

“But that’s everyone else thinking that.  I don’t know what _he_ thinks.”

“You know what?  You’re not going to ever find out unless you ask.”

“But –”

“Enjolras.  Nothing bad can happen if you ask.  If he’s really a person worth agonizing over, he’ll be honest and won’t let it affect your relationship negatively.  You better hope he makes sure it affects your relationship positively,” she smirks.

“Why wouldn’t you ever join the debate team with me in high school?”

“I considered it for the sole purpose of beating your classmates, but the few girls were straight and your guys weren’t cute and so I joined theatre instead,” she shrugged.

“Plus Éponine was in theatre.”

Cosette chokes and tries desperately to hide it.  “So, you’re going to ask him?”

“Yeah, sure.” He decides not to push the Éponine thing.  For now.

“When?”

“At some point,” Enjolras says sheepishly.

“Soon,” Cosette corrects for him.

“Whatever.  Soon.  Now, I have a question for you, little sister.”

“I’m scared.” she mutters.

“That _girl’s_ name was Aimée, and she was polite, if a bit...exhibitionist. Why’d you spit out ‘girl’ like she worships Napoleon? Something you want to tell me?”

“No!” Cosette bursts, eyes widening. “Nothing at all to say, Éponine’s great – they’re still together – Éponine and _Aimée_ are great together! Have you talked to Grantaire recently?”

Enjolras snickers at the obvious subject change. “No, have you talked to Éponine? Or is that Musichetta you’re grinning over texting? She’s already in a relationship, sweetheart.”

“I hate you,” Cosette groans, swiping an eyeshadow-smudged finger through his pancake batter and ignoring his cackling as she skulks out of the kitchen into the hallway.

“Cosette?” Enjolras calls after her.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” he says, holding his arms out to her.

“You’re welcome,” she replies, sliding back into the kitchen and wrapping him tightly in a hug, stretching up and placing a kiss on his nose.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, big brother.”

Enjolras starts to pour pancake batter onto the griddle, dropping some chocolate chips that smell suspiciously like coffee beans into the batter as he does so.

“Oh, and big brother?” Cosette tosses over her shoulder on her way out of the kitchen. “Grantaire texted and he's moaning about how indecent you look with your hair pulled up.” she grins.

 

Enjolras drops the bowl on the floor and splatters batter everywhere.


End file.
